


bleeding warmth

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29843172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tommy dies and Wilbur doesn't expect to find him.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40
Collections: Anonymous





	bleeding warmth

**Author's Note:**

> uh i didn't tag for major character death but. they're both dead. also descriptions of blood and injuries. minimal comfort.

Wilbur doesn’t even notice when he first arrives. The expanse leaves little sound, little awareness, little to be seen or heard, and no way to find out by word of mouth or rumors.

Instead, he sees the drops on the white and pristine floor, looking almost like a reflection as they reflect off of themselves, ruby drops that seem to sink into the floor the longer he looks down at them, the only indicator that, apparently, something here has changed.

It is only when he sees the smear, the blood that fades into pink as it is smudged along the white floor that he realizes it’s new, the thin layer only just starting to flake as he rubs it, kneeling down.

His own blood barely flowing anymore, the ghost only having the stain on his sweater and the brown, almost black, line coming from his mouth, that doesn’t seem to flake away no matter how many times he catches his reflection in the floor, rubbing at it with a sleeve until he’s sure that, if he still had any, he’d be bleeding from the spot.

It isn’t a few seconds later that he hears what he thinks is sobs, seeing the shaking shoulders a little ways in front of him, white shirt almost blending into the background, the grey skin barely visible and the clothing dull and grey as if it had been sapped of any life.

He barely recognizes the figure, until he touches their shoulder and they turn around, the fresh blood flowing down their face and staining the dull colors of the front of their shirt, the sounds coming from them now distinguishable as laughs, shoulders still shaking as they spread their legs out from where they were pulled up to his chest, now staring up at the crouching ghost in front of them.

Thoughts rush past, _you’re not supposed to be here, who, why, it wasn’t time yet, its been only a few months._

Things that he knows the other wouldn’t want to hear, _you’re so young, you’ve gotten so much older, when, how, why,_ but none of them seem anything more than superficial as he can see the still-warm blood rush from the apparent wounds, the small laughs coming more harshly now, eyes tearing up as they make contact, and before he knows it, the older ghost is being tackled with a hug, nearly falling back and wincing at the feeling of the warm blood seeping into his sweater.

Its odd, the feeling of warmth, in a place so devoid of it, and he almost relishes in it before remembering where it comes from, and then he holds just a bit tighter, for a different reason, letting the rest of the dwindling supply of blood flow onto his sweater, as he watches his brother, friend, support, cry and laugh, becoming greyer with every passing second, until they’re both a mass of clothes and blood, dried and warm, sitting on pristine white floors, reflecting them back to themselves even as they cling to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> this was just so i know i can still write. also i come back after two days and tommy is dead. funky.  
> edit: a few hours after i post this,,, they couldn't have waiting a few more days ?


End file.
